May 14, 2026
By Natalie Tseng, Student Life
Student Life's Junk Journal
There is something special about April at the University of Michigan. The air softens, hammocks go back up in the Diag, and suddenly, campus feels alive and vibrant again.
After weeks of cold and routine, people linger outside longer and soak in the sun. There is a sense that something is ending, yet beginning, at the same time.
For many students, April signals one thing: graduation. Caps, gowns, diplomas, celebrations—a clear finish line.
Over the past few weeks, I’ve come to realize that there is no single way to “graduate” or to “end the year.” In some ways, this realization feels personal.
When I think about my own time as a student, I don’t just think about classes or academic accomplishments; It’s the moments that were harder to name that come to mind. The challenges, the uncertainties and the times where I had to grow quietly and figure things out on my own. As a rising senior, I am already feeling sentimental over the fleeting moments of my time at U-M.
These parts of the journey can go unnoticed in the busyness of April. The month marks more than an ending—it becomes a moment to look back on everything, both visible and unseen, and recognize how much it took to get here.
Across campus, Student Life end-of-year celebration events reflect this in different ways.
Stories that are more layered, personal and often less visible. Each event holds a distinct kind of celebration, revealing just how many paths exist at U-M.
I stopped by some of these events to create an end-of-year junk journal. While I found many scraps and moments to be collected, I also realized that while we often celebrate the outcome, we don’t always see what went into the journey.
Moments in between
I began my end-of-year junk journal journey at Student Life’s End of Year Social in North Quadrangle, hosted by Michigan Housing. The celebration felt simple and joyful, but meaningful in its own way.
Students gathered in the Bowman Room late in the evening, plates of food in hand, sitting with friends and laughing with conversation.
There were small joys—stuffed animals, fidget trinkets and a sundae bar—that made the night feel childlike and carefree. It wasn’t about recognition or achievement, but rather being present and enjoying the little moments together before we all go off in different directions.
I spoke with a group of students who were taking it all in. The last few weeks, the meals together, the final moments of a year that flew by quickly.
It reminded me that sometimes the most important part of closing a chapter isn’t the milestone itself, but the space to sit in it and slow down with others.
Being seen
A few days later, this energy shifted at Lavender Graduation.
Held at the Michigan Union by Spectrum Center, the room carried a different weight: emotional, affirming and deeply supportive. As students gathered, there was a sense of anticipation, but also comfort.
I felt incredibly moved by the ceremony. The speakers reflected on what it meant to find belonging, sharing how Spectrum Center offered a pillar of support and community amongst times of uncertainty beyond academics.
I left feeling hopeful. Here, graduation wasn’t just about finishing a degree. It was about being seen and recognized for who you are entirely.
“Even the cookies were queer,” one graduate told me with a laugh, pointing towards the food table and the thoughtful details the Spectrum Center incorporated throughout the celebration to ensure LGBTQ+ students felt fully seen and embraced.
Similarly, the Collegiate Recovery Program Commencement Celebration recognized its graduates for their perseverance and resilience, shifting the meaning of graduation to yet another dimension.
The room was filled with reflections on strength and rediscovery.
Words like “mattering” rather than simply “belonging,” carried a different feeling here. This was not just a celebration of academic achievement, it was a recognition of what it means to persevere and choose yourself over and over again.
I was reminded that for some students, graduation represents something deeper than the milestone itself. It signifies healing, rebuilding and figuring out your identity along the way with the support of others.
Behind-the-scenes impact
Other celebrations throughout April, like leadership recognitions through MLEAD and student employment events, show a different kind of contribution to campus life.
The students who organize, support and shape U-M’s community often do so quietly, through work that happens behind the scenes and becomes woven into the everyday experiences that define campus.
At the MDining end-of-year celebration, graduating student employees gathered one last time to share a meal together. Emma Prchlik, a South Quad student manager, reflected on the community she found through her work.
At one point during the event, nearly 30 student employees tried squeezing into a single photo booth frame. They did not all fit, dissolving into laughter as the camera captured a scene of friendship, celebration and joy, with students toppling over one another.
Later, Emma told me, “If you would have asked me freshman year, I don’t think I would have even admitted to working at the dining hall. I thought it was embarrassing. But now, as the school year comes to an end, I reflect on the friendships I’ve made these past three years.”
“I’ve made friends from Malaysia, Thailand and Spain,” Emma said. “We’ve shared stories of our home countries, favorite foods, musicians and movies. My coworkers have become some of my closest friends.”
What began as a campus job became something much larger: a source of belonging, friendship and connection.
Together, these celebrations reflected the many different ways students leave their mark on U-M, often through moments of care, friendship and community that happen behind the scenes.
More than one way to end the year
I ended the year in a simple way: with my friends.
A celebratory porch barbeque, music and a bonfire.
It wasn’t anything extravagant, but it felt comfortable and quietly memorable. I found myself thinking about everything it took to get here—the challenges I silently navigated and my growth that didn’t always feel noticeable at the time.
I smiled, watching my friends enjoy the moments together, realizing how much the little celebrations matter too.
Now reflecting on it all together, these celebrations demonstrate something much bigger.
Finishing another year of college is not just a single story, and graduation is not just an event in which you get a diploma.
April at U-M is both a beginning and an ending. It is a time that maps a collection of stories and reflections, where campus doesn’t just celebrate achievement, but the many paths and journeys that it took to get there.
Student Life makes space for all of it. Creating moments where students can gather, reflect and be recognized across many different experiences.
Perhaps this is the point.
The most meaningful celebrations in life aren’t always the most visible. They’re the ones that remind people that they belong, that they matter, and that their individual journey—whatever it looked like—is worth honoring.